


Carried by Pail and Back

by ItsClydeBitches



Category: Turn (TV 2014)
Genre: Children, F/M, Family, Fluff, Pregnancy, hopefully enough adorable papa!Hewlett to rot your teeth
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-30
Updated: 2016-01-30
Packaged: 2018-05-17 06:14:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,056
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5857273
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ItsClydeBitches/pseuds/ItsClydeBitches
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A ficlet written for the tumblr prompt "I wish you would write a fic where Hewlett marries Anna and they have a child. Cookie points if you write this in verse and if we see awkward daddy!Hewlett."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Carried by Pail and Back

The line was nearly out the door today, so when the commotion started it was quite like a ripple—a wave slowly making its way towards Hewlett at the front. He sat at his makeshift desk, telling John Walters that no, he was not in a position to grant him any unclaimed land (what did he want with that barren mud-hole anyway?) when the farmers at the very back parted, a river dividing to let something through. Mrs. Lettar twittered with Mrs. Lane, accidentally nudging the back of young Bill Suthers, who sent the current on through a group of men still engaged in some argument, who drew Mr. Walters out of his impassioned pleas… by the time Hewlett realized that his assembly was well and truly broken, his wife was already stepping forward.

Only Anna Hewlett could bring smiles to faces while cutting in line.

“You’re late,” she huffed, one hand on her hip, the other dragged down by a weighted pail. Hewlett was immediately on his feet, ignoring the companionable jeers that had started up around him. Many men shouted things about ‘kept husbands.’ The women all nodded approvingly.

“I’m sorry,” were the first words out of his mouth, increasing the laughter. With a roll of his eyes Hewlett led Anna into the back of the church. He raised a hand to the noisy crowd, perhaps a slight more curtly than they truly deserved. Still, they would have to wait.

“As you can see,” Hewlett drawled, “today turned out rather more busy than expected. My apologies.”

“Apologies?” Anna stressed. She lifted one eyebrow.

Blushing, Hewlett leaned in to give her a chaste—but certainly heartfelt—kiss. His neighbors let out a cry unbefitting of their stations (or their age) and with a scowl he pulled Anna into a small alcove, out of their sight.

It was a good decision. Light streamed through the dirty window, framing Anna’s hair and glinting off the few grey strands she’d collected over the years. Hewlett was struck dumb just long enough to draw a laugh out of her. Anna lightly nudged his arm, her body carried forward by the weight of the pail. It was a large container, more suited for carrying wood than water.

Hewlett let out a quiet ‘tut.’

“You shouldn’t be carrying such heavy things,” he admonished. Hewlett’s hand automatically went to Anna’s stomach, beginning to swell now that winter had turned. “I do mean it, Anna. If you need something done let the servants do it. Working like this… you risk straining yourself and the ba—oh!”

“Trust me, I’m used to carrying _this_ weight.”

Hewlett pulled back from peering into the pail, his hand leaving Anna’s stomach to press at his throat, startled quite beyond belief. He hardly heard Anna’s increased laughter, so entranced was he by a pair of warm, brown eyes.

“Hi, Papa!”

The eyes rose, popping up to reveal a mess of black curls, tiny hands, a painfully dirtied nose… little Mary Hewlett uncurled herself from the inside of the pail, her joints creaking like those of an old man’s rather than a five-year-old’s.

“What is this?” Hewlett cried. He heard curious murmurs from the crowd down the hall, but he ignored them in favor of scooping his daughter up into his arms. Mary went willingly, planting a raspberry against the side of Hewlett’s head and sending his wig askew. Anna must have enjoyed the look, for her giggles continued.

Hewlett shook his head bemusedly. “Water, wood, eggs, perhaps even some herbs… I was not expecting a _girl_ to be delivered today!” He tossed Mary briefly into the air, catching her sideways ‘round the waist and twirling her, ever mindful of the small space.

“She’s still a tiny one,” Anna agreed. “You,” she poked Mary in the stomach, “came far too early. Now years later your father is late.” Anna looked morosely down at her stomach. “Will _you_ be on time then, little one?”

Mary wasn’t interested in the activities of her sibling though. Not now at any rate. She squirmed until she had a leg on either side of Hewlett’s waist—his arms, now strengthened from his fair share of battles, holding her up with ease—and planted a hand on either of his cheeks. Mary smushed her father’s face gravely.

“You promised to teach me horses, Papa,” she garbled.

“Ah. Did I?” Hewlett made a show of thinking it over. “Horses, you say?”

“Yes!”

“Then I must have been mistaken. I thought I was to teach you horseback _riding_ , but if it’s just horses perhaps we should start with something else: how to feed them, groom them, clean the muck from their stalls…”

“No!” Mary yelled. “Riding, riding!”

“You’re sure?”

Mary lifted her chin, puckered her lips, and said “ _Quite_ ,” in a stuffy imitation of her father. Behind her Anna let out an indelicate snort.

“Very well,” and he swung Mary up onto his shoulders. “There’s still time?” he asked of Anna, the two of them already turning back the way they’d come. She smiled, reaching out to trail one hand down the small of his back. Her fingertips rose again and cascaded over his arm, ending at his hand, raising it up for a kiss. Lips pale from the cold grazed across Hewlett’s knuckles.

“We’ll be waiting with dinner,” Anna said, arms returning to guard her stomach. All at once her expression went from tender to stern. “Don’t allow that fool girl to break anything.”

“I shall do my best,” he said, gazing heavenward as Mary laughed and this time nearly sent his wig to the dusty floor. The three of them returned to the rest of their town, most of who had broken the line and were now chatting companionably.  

Mary nudged Hewlett’s chest with her heels. “Giddy up, Papa!”

“Yes, Major Hewlett, giddy up!”

He wasn’t sure which man had yelled it, but Hewlett scowled at the crowd as a whole. That is, until Mary’s head swung into his view, pale lips—just like her mother’s—pouting exaggeratedly.

“Pweeese?” she stressed.

So it was that Hewlett left the church in what might have been the approximation of a human gallop.

If he kept it up all the way to his family’s stables, well, only him, his daughter, and the rest of the town truly knew. 


End file.
